


Falling Toward Consensus

by Acidqueen



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidqueen/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: For Israfel and Azrael, it's a sort of homecoming. For Stannis Shepard and Kaidan Alenko, it's their turn to be the unexpected heroes that this world needs. For Castiel and the Winchesters, it's all part of the job.Book 2 of the Shepard GospelsBook 1 is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842548/chapters/1606697





	1. Eulogy

  
  


**Midway Motor Lodge  
** **Lebanon, KS**

 

Israfel turned on the water, carefully testing the temperature before closing the diverter valve on the faucet and stepping naked under the stream. “I swear,” she half-whispered, “this is the best thing Man ever invented after the backscratcher.” The angel let the water fall on her skin and smiled at the contrast between the warm shower and the cool brought by the light breeze coming in through the cracked-open bathroom window before grabbing the bar of soap from the travel dish and lathering it over her skin.

 

“Izzy.” The electronic voice just outside the shower made her look up and over to see a bluish light hovering on the other side of the shower curtain. “There are some rough characters outside our room. Want me to let them in before they stick us with a bill for damages?”

 

“Yeah Fermat, go ahead.”

 

“Gotcha.” The light elongated and shifted before moving out of the bathroom.

 

“Thanks.” Israfel went back to soaping up with a deep sigh. “So much for a leisurely shower.” 

 

A brief commotion outside the bathroom was followed by half-muffled curses and the sounds of electronic protest. Israfel rolled her eyes and ducked under the shower head to rinse off right as the shower curtain was yanked aside by an annoyed-looking man in motorcycle leathers brandishing an angel blade. His dark hair hung limply from a center part, just past his earlobes. A reddened scar arced across the bridge of his nose, and his goatee looked to be in dire need of a trim. “What the hell are you doing?!” he demanded, narrowing his piercing green eyes.

 

“It’s called a shower. It’s how I relax after being behind the wheel for three days.” Israfel ducked under the shower head again for a second rinsing. “Could you hand me that towel that’s on the rack just behind your right shoulder?” The angel held her hand out and waited. “For Dad’s sakes Malachi, I didn’t call you here to attack you.” She fixed her brother with an irritated look. “That and you’re kinda between me and the towel,” she snarked. “So please just hand it to me, since you’re right friggin’ there.”

 

Malachi took a step back and reached over to grab the towel, and handed it to Israfel. “Here,” he said. “Talk.”

 

Israfel took the towel and started to dry off. “Thanks. Fermat?”  The holographic image of a Geth platform walked over to the bathroom door and raised an eyeflap. “You okay?”

 

Fermat nodded. “Five by five, Izzy.” 

 

Israfel smiled at her travelling companion, and the holographic Geth nodded back at her. Five angels had accompanied Malachi. Israfel looked at them, then back at her brother. “You really thought you needed bodyguards?”

 

“Precautions.” Malachi shot back. “I was told that you were dead.” He fiddled with his angel blade and narrowed his eyes again.

 

“You were told a lot of things after I vanished--many of those were flat-out lies and the rest...” Israfel hung the towel back on the rack. “Excuse me,” she said. She squeezed past her brother and walked naked and still half-damp into the sleeping area. “The rest of what you were told,” she continued as she flopped down onto the bed and grabbed her bugout bag, “were half-truths.” She pulled out a bra and started to put it on. “Also,” she said as she looked up at the angels that had come with Malachi to the meeting. “Hi, Theo, James, Aon, Uri and Vars. Sorry for the lack of chairs.” She shot a look at a burly black-haired angel with a scarred face and bushy beard. “Theo, please stop poking my travelling companion.” Theo shrugged and backed away.

 

“What is it?” Aon asked. He reached up and swept a lock of long blonde hair from his narrow face.

 

Fermat let out a disgusted noise. “I’m a Geth.” The Geth lowered its eyeflaps in its best approximation of an annoyed look. “And I’m a  _ he _ ,” he snarked, “not an it.” The wiry angel blinked in surprise.

 

“Cut the shit” Malachi stood defiantly in the doorway of the bathroom, glaring at Israfel. “Why did you ask to meet with me?”

 

“Because you recognize the value of joining forces.” Israfel put on a t-shirt and unrolled a pair of jeans. “I heard how Bartholomew disrespected you,” she said as she shook them out and started to put them on. “He’s a short-sighted jackass who fancies himself the second coming of Michael, and--like Michael--treats our people like disposable props to inflate his ridiculous ego.” She looked up at her brother. “But I’m not Bartholomew, or at least I  _ try _ not to be like him.” Israfel stood and slid her jeans up, buttoning them before reaching back into her bag to retrieve a thick datapad, which she offered to Malachi. 

 

“Here,” Israfel said as her brother took the device. “It’s a high-capacity datapad. It contains a true and complete accounting of where I’ve been since you saw me last. It’s also got a proposal on it--I’ve given a datapad just like it to the smaller groups of non-combatants and outliers; as an FYI? They’re under my protection to keep Bartholomew from hunting them down and murdering them.” The archangel sat down on the bed. “We all need to work together, or Metatron’s going to roast us all separately.”

 

Malachi looked at the datapad. It lit up in his hands, and he skimmed through the first part of it. “So, you basically just left.” He looked back at Israfel, jaw set.

 

Israfel nodded. “Yeah--it’s...it’s complicated. There’s an explanation on the datapad.”

 

“That’s all you have to say?” Malachi snarled. “It’s ‘complicated’.”  threw the datapad to the floor and leapt at his sister, knocking her over the bed and onto the floor with him on top of her. Fermat took a step forward, and the other angels in the room stepped in front of him with blades drawn.

 

“What good is all that to us now?!” he roared angrily, eyes blazing with rage as he pulled back and started to punch Israfel. When she tried to activate her OmniTool, Malachi pinned her arm to the floor under his knee. “We all suffered, Israfel! I  _ bled _ while you were on your little vacation!” Tears started running down his face as he continued to beat his sister. “We lost so many good angels when Metatron cast us out,” he raged, “and you come waltzing back in here claiming that you respect us?  _ Where were you? _ ”

 

“I had my own war that I needed to fight,” Israfel rasped. She grabbed her brother and rolled them over, then scrambled over the bed and back toward the open bathroom door. “For what little it’s worth,” she continued as Malachi stood and advanced on her, “I’m sorry.” Her mark faded into view on her forehead as her bruises started to fade and her swollen eyes and mouth started to return to normal. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I was gone for so long, I’m sorry I didn’t come blazing into the Throne Room to beat Michael’s ass and throw him and Raphael in the Cage with Lucifer before they could fuck things up further. I’m sorry. But I’m here  _ now _ , to help our people  _ now _ .” She reached up with her right hand and lightly swept her fingertips across Malachi’s forehead. “...and to return what Michael stole from you.”

 

Malachi staggered and collapsed onto the bed. Theo spun around and flung his blade at Israfel, who grabbed it and calmly held it out to him hilt-first. “He’ll be fine,” she said as she massaged her jaw for a moment. “He’s going to have a bit of a headache for a few hours, but he’ll be fine. He’ll...he’ll remember things. Theo…” Israfel stepped forward and placed her brother’s blade on the bed before stepping back. “Malachi needs you.” She looked at the rest of the squad. “He needs all of you. Take him home. Let him rest. And, as a favour to me...please be there for him when he wakes up.”

 

Aon and James helped Malachi off the bed and out the door. Theo looked back at Uri and Vars. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll catch up.” The pair nodded and followed their brothers out the door. Theo shut the door behind them and turned to face Israfel. “We should talk.”

 

Israfel looked to Fermat for a moment and made a reassuring gesture. The Geth nodded and returned to the form of a message drone before floating over to disappear into his angelic companion’s Omni-Tool. “Fermat’s a real being--he and his people are sentient AIs. And I agree, we should talk. I’ve met with a few folks since I got back.” 

 

Israfel moved around the bed to pick up the datapad. She offered it to Theo. “I know you think Malachi has lost his mind, Theo; I saw the looks you were giving him while he and I were talking. I also know that Metatron has approached certain angels about joining him--I’m willing to bet you’re one of them.” She came back around and reached up to put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told them; Metatron played Castiel for a sap--and he’ll do the same to you. As for Malachi, he’s hurt and angry, and he doesn’t know how to process that hurt and anger. He needs you and everyone with you to help him find his way out.”

 

Theo pursed his lips and scratched his chin for a moment. “I feel like he doesn’t respect me, though. Why should I bother?”

 

“This will sound kinda pop-culture, but you should bother because you care.” Israfel smiled and indicated toward the door. “I’ve some more people to meet with before I go try to get Bartholomew to wrench his head out of his ass, but you have my number. If you need me, call me. Even if it’s just to vent in a voicemail.”

 

Theo took a deep breath and looked down at the datapad in his hands for a moment. “Full story, you said?”

 

Israfel nodded. “Yeah. Some of it is...well, it’s uncomfortable. But it’s all true.”

 

“Hmm.”Theo pursed his lips for a moment and sighed. “Okay, Israfel. I’ll stick with Malachi--but I’m doing it for you, not for him.”

 

Israfel nodded again.  “Fair enough.” 

 

Theo nodded and walked toward the door. “I’ll be in touch,” he said over his shoulder before opening the door and walking out.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Israfel said softly. After the door closed, she pulled up her OmniTool. “Fermat, Addy and I are going to grab a nap before we head over to the Bunker. You okay?”

 

The image of Fermat appeared on the screen. “Will you be offended if I said that I can’t wait to have an actual platform again?” the Geth asked.

 

Israfel chuckled. “Not at all. Would you like me to queue up some vids or something for you, to try to break up the cabin fever?”  
  


“I’ll be fine,” Fermat replied. “I’ve been amusing myself looking through what passes for the Extranet on this world.” He quirked an eyeflap. “Will we get to see a shapeshifter?”

 

“Oh boy...good night, Fermat.”

 

“Good night.” 

 

The screen closed, and Israfel fell back onto the bed. She pulled up a picture on her OmniTool and smiled at it. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.

  
  
  


**Singer Auto Salvage  
** **Sioux Falls, SD**

 

_ Azrael… _ the name drifted to the sleeper in the fire, a raspy whisper on the wind.  _ Stannis needs you. I don’t know where we are. Help us. They’re going to kill him… _

 

The sleeper opened her eyes and whispered a single sentence before falling back into slumber. “I’ll see you soon.”


	2. Disposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Israfel have a confrontation in Bobby's basement, Bartholomew has a mole, Israfel steals a Harley, and Fermat has a low opinion of what passes for information security in the Winchesters' world. Some exposition in this chapter as Israfel gives Sam and Dean a brief primer on the nature of the two worlds and the relationship between grace and eezo.

**Men of Letters Bunker**

**Lebanon, KS**

  
  


Kevin scratched his head for a moment. “Okay, let me make sure I heard you right. You guys were kidnapped by angels to help fight a war in some alternate universe.”

 

“Mhmm.” Dean popped a thermal clip out of the Avenger in his hands. He put the clip down on the table and checked over the rifle before collapsing it. “That’s what happened.” He picked up his Carnifex pistol, popped out the clip, and started to inspect it.

 

“A war in space.” Kevin quirked an eyebrow and blinked a few times before continuing, “with actual spaceships.” 

 

Dean set the pistol on the table and nodded to Kevin as he reached for his coffee mug. “Only part of it was in space. But yeah.”

 

“Against giant killer robots with death rays.”

 

Dean took a sip of his coffee. “Mhmm.”

 

“Right.” The young Prophet let out the word slowly. He blinked a couple of times and shook his head, still unable to grasp what the Winchesters had told him. “And you went to alien planets, met  _ actual _ aliens, died  _ again _ and were personally resurrected by Death himself, and that’s how you got all this…” he waved his hands toward the gear laid out on the conference table. “...stuff?”

 

Dean nodded and picked up his Carnifex again. “Yep.” He put the pistol in a display case and adjusted its position. “That really is how we got it.” He looked over at Sam. “I don’t really need to take this off, do I?” Dean asked, pointing at his OmniTool.

 

Sam shrugged as he popped the clip out of the Krogan-made shotgun in front of him. “Well if you want to try to explain it if we get arrested, be my guest.”

 

“Mmmf.” Castiel took a drink from a glass of milk before speaking again. “Sorry.” He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth. “Our OmniTools are useful, but Sam’s got a point.” He took another swig from his glass. “And I don’t even want to think of what will happen if Met--”

 

_ Knock knock knock _

 

The quartet looked around the table at each other. After a moment Kevin asked, “Did anyone follow you guys back from wherever it is that you went?”

 

The group stood up from the table at the same time. Dean grabbed his Carnifex and the clip he’d just removed, and slotted the clip home. Sam slid a clip into his shotgun, and Castiel snapped on his barrier.  Dean cocked the slide on the pistol and walked over to the security monitor’s control panel to thumb the switch on the audio pickup. “Not that I’m aware of,” he responded in a low half-whisper. He flipped a second switch to activate the exterior camera.

 

“Are you sure they’re even home?” A digitized voice came over the speakers. On the monitor, a woman who looked to be in her twenties stood with her back against the corner opposite the camera. Her light brown hair hung loose just above her shoulders, and the back of her hand blinked as the voice continued. “I mean, these  _ are _ the Winchesters. Maybe they went on a beer run or to get pie or something.”

 

The young woman looked up. “Nah, I’m pretty sure that they’re here. In fact,” she said with a wink at the camera, “I’d be willing to bet they’re watching us right now. Come on guys,” the stranger piped up, “I’m feeling a little exposed out here. Will you answer the damn door already?” She sighed deeply. “And for the love of my Dad, I really hope you didn’t toss that greybox.”

 

“Israfel...” Castiel flashed across the room in a puff of ozone and got out his angel blade. “I’ll get the door,“ he announced, moving past Dean to the interior airlock door. Tendrils of dark energy trailed from the angel’s barrier, leaving sparks in their wake.

 

“My ears are burning little brother,” the young woman quipped. “Could y--” Static washed over her, freezing her in mid-sentence, and Castiel reached out to drag her inside. 

 

When the interior door opened, Castiel marched in with the stranger slung over his shoulder, immobilized by a stasis field. Castiel put his captive up against a pillar and stepped back, blade at the ready. Sam and Dean raised their guns and pointed them at the new arrival, and Castiel dropped the stasis at a nod from Dean.

 

“Vash’urj!” The woman stumbled and fell forward, landing on hands and knees. She looked up at Castiel and slowly started to stand, an Enochian sigil coming into view on her forehead. “Was that really necessary?”

 

“Yeah, it’s kinda ru--” the electronic voice from the stranger’s OmniTool stopped at the sound of Sam cocking the slide on his shotgun. “Whoa, nevermind.” The OmniTool winked out, and the guest reached out toward a nearby chair with one hand while holding up the other to indicate that she was unarmed. The chair slid across the floor toward her open hand, and the woman sat down in it with a heavy sigh.

 

“Who are you?” Dean barked.

 

“Benson, Adileh Farah. Second Lieutenant. Service number 5426-SC-0619.” Sam and Dean leveled their guns at Israfel and stepped forward. Castiel flared his barrier and glared at her.

 

“Try again sister,” Castiel growled. “The truth, this time.”

 

Israfel nodded. “Okay, okay.” She patted her chest and put her hands up. “Israfel. Angel of the Lord, Castiel’s sister, came back with you guys and I swear, all of us in this room are on the same side.” She looked around. “So...I see the three of you, and the Prophet…” Israfel nodded and smiled at Kevin, who blinked a couple of times and gave her an uncertain wave. “...and no one else. Uhh, loaded question: where’s Stannis?”

 

“What?” All four people in front of the angel said the question at once.

 

“Stannis? Stannis Shepard? Lt. Commander, Systems Alliance Navy? CO of the  _ SSV Normandy _ ? Saviour of the Citadel, Hero of Elysium, two-time recipient of the Star of Terra?” A low whine arose from the table, but the trio in front of the angel didn’t seem to notice as they began to barrage Israfel with questions. 

 

_ Izzy,  _ a voice echoed in her head.  _ Find Sam. Get here asap.... _

 

Israfel put up her left hand and pinched the bridge of her nose with the right. “For the love of Creation,” she shouted, “everyone please be quiet a moment!” The room fell silent save for the whine. “You’ve got the greybox,” she said, voice barely audible. “Thank Dad.” Israfel slowly stood, holding a hand up as she steadied herself. “That sound is giving me a headache, and it’s only going to get worse until--”

 

“What sound?” Sam asked.

 

Israfel winced and rubbed her temples. “You don’t hear that?”

 

Everyone shook their heads. “I’ve got Angel Radio turned off,” Castiel said.

 

“It’s c--”

 

The greybox suddenly let out a piercing and very audible shriek that made Israfel drop to her knees as the skylights of the bunker’s conference room started to shudder. She frantically pointed and waved at the table. Sam hurried over and picked up the greybox, and the shrieking stopped. The device was warm in the hunter’s hands. An ethereal image of a chubby dark-haired woman in a pantsuit appeared in the middle of the room.

 

_ Sam, _ the image said, _ If you’re seeing this message, then it means that time is up and a lot of people will die if you don’t get your ass here with that greybox. This is a recording. _ The image vanished.

 

“Fuck…” Israfel winced. “For the love of all Creation, please don’t let go of that greybox.” She looked up at her brother and his companions. “That was Azrael screaming for help. If we don’t get that thing to Sioux Falls pronto, my twin is going to inadvertently trash the better part of four states and two Canadian provinces when she comes back together on her own.” She stood slowly. “Perash’ma, my head hurts...We’ve got to go,” she said weakly. “-- _ now _ . Please.”

 

Dean and Castiel looked at each other for a moment. Castiel nodded, and Dean collapsed his pistol. Sam followed suit with the shotgun. “Fine,” Dean said as he tucked the Carnifex in his waistband, “It’s a six-hour drive, which will give you enough time to explain what’s going on.” The hunter looked back to the table, then to Castiel. “Go get a baggie for your sandwich. But no crumbs in my back seat, or you’re detailing the car again.”

  
  


**Just outside Sioux Falls, SD**

**Six and one half hours later**

 

Ten miles outside of Sioux Falls, the greybox started to emit a soft glow. “Azrael said there’d be instructions,” Sam commented. He held the greybox firmly, and kept looking to it every so often.

 

Israfel nodded. “You’ll know what to do when we get there. At least that part of the plan will go how it should.” She yawned and rubbed a hand over her face. “Either that or you’ll learn a lot more colourful Batarian metaphors as I try to keep us all from dying in an unintended cataclysm.”

 

“So what happens?” Dean quipped. “We put Azrael back together, you two fist-bump, Wonder Twin Powers Activate?”

 

Israfel let out a soft chuckle. “Nah, nothing like that.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Just because we were created at the exact same moment, that doesn’t mean we have any kind of special powers.” She reached up and ran a finger over the mark on her forehead. “At least, none that I can explain anyway.”

 

Dean pulled the Impala into the lot and turned to look into the back seat. “When do we get the rest of that explanation you promised us?”

 

“As soon as I’ve gotten the chance to talk to Stannis.” Israfel looked out the window at the house, and raised an eyebrow at a set of tracks in the driveway. “There are some things that he needs--that he  _ deserves _ to hear first.” She opened the door next to her and exited the Impala, followed by the Winchesters and her brother. The greybox let out a soft hum, and the nimbus around it spread over Sam’s skin. “Go on,” Israfel said softly, “I’ll catch up.”

 

Sam nodded and walked toward the house, greybox cradled in his hands. A faint image of Azrael walked in front of him, heading down the stairs to the basement. The hunter followed the image. At the bottom of the stairs he turned to his left and walked into the basement’s main room. Holy fire marked the edge of a ritual circle. At the center, Azrael lay motionless with her hands at her sides.

 

“Sam?” the angel slurred. “Got the box?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Let’s get you put back together.” The now-blinding light from the greybox made the hunter squint. Following the instructions being pantomimed next to him, Sam held the glowing greybox over the burning edge of the circle. The flames licked up over his skin, but he held on as the device’s housing melted away in his cupped hands to leave a pool of grace. Sam opened his hands, and the grace flowed through the holy fire to the pattern on the floor. The pattern started to glow, and tendrils of grace reached out to draw in the flames.

 

Azrael opened her eyes. “Don’t watch this part,” she cautioned, “unless you want to go blind, of course.”

 

Sam stepped back, then turned and shut his eyes tightly. A low hum came from the circle, and intensified into a deafening shrill as light flooded the basement. Sam felt warmth at his back for an instant, and the room fell silent.

 

“All clear.”

 

Sam turned and opened his eyes. Azrael stood where the circle had been, looking as she did when she revealed herself to Sam. Her wavy hair was held loosely by a large barrette, and her hazel eyes had faint dark circles under them. The angel’s mark faded in and out of view on her forehead. 

 

“Hello my friend.” Azrael took two steps forward and spread her arms wide. “Bring it in?” The angel and the hunter hugged, and Azrael took a step back. “It’s good to finally meet you in p--”

 

“Stannis!”

 

Heavy footsteps thudded down the basement stairs. Azrael instinctively sprang in front of Sam, drawing two blades and dropping into a defensive stance.

 

“Stannis Michael?!” Israfel barrelled down the stairs and charged into the panic room. “Oh no…” She stopped in the middle of the room and looked around a moment, face pale. “No no no no...Azrael,” Israfel turned to lock eyes with her sister and asked in Enochian, “ _ dar ol Stannis _ _? _ ” She turned again to face the bunks on the wall, her back to the door, then dropped to her knees with her head in her hands.

 

“Oh, fuck.” Azrael sheathed her blades and walked toward the door of the panic room. She paused at the threshold and took a breath, then stepped through the doorway.. “Izzy...”

 

Israfel looked down at the floor. “Stannis…I saw the tire tracks in the driveway and smelled traces of eezo,” she whispered. “My boy...”

 

“Bartholomew’s goons came back,” Azrael bent down and put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I told the boys to run before I passed out again. I’d hoped….”

 

Israfel took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault,” she said through an exhale, shoulders sagging. She looked up at her sister. “What have I done, Az?” She stood and leaned into Azrael, who hugged her tightly. “What have I done?”

 

“The best you could with the information that you had at the time. You brought them to the safest place you could think of.” Azrael looked over at Sam, then back to Israfel as Dean and Castiel came down the stairs into the basement. “Look, Kaidan’s been calling to me for help, but I haven’t been able to get a fix on his location.” Azrael sighed, then leaned in and touched foreheads with her sister. “Izzy, I know you wanted to break the news to Stannis first,” she whispered. Azrael looked at Team Free Will and then to her sister. “But that’s not an option anymore. You’ve  _ got _ to tell them now.”

 

Israfel took another deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh, then looked up at the ceiling. 

 

Dean looked at Sam and Castiel. “Why do I have a feeling we’re not going to like this?” he asked. Sam shot an annoyed look back at his brother and shook his head.

 

Azrael nudged her sister. “You know they deserve the truth just as much as Stannis does,” she said quietly. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be right here.”

 

“Perash’ma....” Israfel let out the epithet with a deep sigh, then looked back over her shoulder at Team Free Will. “Stannis Shepard,” she said in a quiet voice, “is my son.”

 

“He’s…” Castiel he marched into the panic room, his face turning crimson with anger. “You spawned a nephilim?!” the biotic angel demanded, voice rising. “And to make matters worse, you brought him  _ here _ ? And did I hear Kaidan’s name mentioned when you were talking to Azrael? What the  _ fuck _ were you thinking, Israfel?”

 

Israfel stood and spun to face her brother, jaw set defiantly. “I  _ fathered _ a _ child _ ,” she snapped defensively, “and don’t you dare disrespect my Hannah by using that word!” She punctuated her response with a sharp prod to Castiel’s chest.

 

Castiel smacked his face with his palm. “I don’t even believe this.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Israfel, were you even thinking? Whatever Stannis was at home, he’s  _ here _ now, he’s a Nephilim, and if another angel has him then a lot of  _ our _ people, the people that you claim to be here to help, are going to die when he tries to protect himself. And God help any of our kind who even lay a finger on Kaidan!”

 

“I know,” Israfel replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know, Cas. He’s here because we need him, and I...I fucked it up, okay? I thought he’d be safe here, in this place.” She looked up at the ceiling. “I thought he’d be safe…” She hugged herself and looked back at Castiel as tears started to roll down her cheeks. “Please, little brother.” she rasped. “Help me find my boy. He’s the key to everything. If he dies, our people will never get their wings back, Heaven will stay closed to everyone...and both our worlds will die a slow death.”

 

The two angels stared at each other for a long moment before Sam cut in. “Okay look,” he said, “We can come up with a game plan at the Batcave.” He walked into the panic room and rested a hand on Israfel’s shoulder and nodded to Azrael. “Come on,” he said softly. “It’s safer there.” Sam looked to Castiel. “We need to get out of here, in case whoever took Shepard and Kaidan decide to come back--you can be mad later.”

  
  
  


**Buddy Boyle Ministries HQ**

**Lawton, OK**

  
  


“Azrael…” The name spilled out through swollen and split lips, followed by a wet spitting sound in the dark. “Help.” 

 

The door opened, and a shaft of bright light fell on a battered and bloody Kaidan Alenko. Kaidan squinted into the light and saw somebody coming into the room to set something on the floor in front of him. He reached up at the figure, and felt his hand gently brushed aside.

 

“No, please. I’ll do what I can. But they can’t know that I’ve been in this room,” a feminine voice whispered. “If they see blood on my clothes before I get a chance to clean it off, they’ll ask questions.” Kaidan heard the sound of plastic tearing, and smelled something sweet and fruity. “This is all I could find,” the voice continued as a packet was pressed into his hand. He heard the sound of a seal being cracked. “I brought water,” the voice said as a bottle was gently pressed to his lips, a gentle hand supporting his back.

 

Kaidan felt cold water on his tongue, and gulped it down. “Thank you,” he rasped. “Why...” He winced as a burgeoning migraine started to eat away the edges of his vision. “Ugh. Why help?”

 

The visitor gently touched a fingertip to Kaidan’s forehead, and his headache faded. “I managed to access the devices you were wearing,” she explained. “I read much about you and where you came from...and other things. I don’t believe Bartholomew when he says you mean to harm us.”

 

“Stannis?” Kaidan croaked out Shepard’s name. “Where…”

 

“Bartholomew won’t let us near him,” the mysterious person replied sadly. “He’s alive, that’s all I know.” Kaidan’s benefactor retreated toward the door. “There are orders to keep you separated. This room will be guarded from now on, but I’ll try to bring more food and water to you when I can.”

 

“Wait.”

 

The benefactor stopped and looked back.

 

“Sam,” Kaidan grunted, unsure if the words even got out of his mouth. “Azrael said...to find Sam.” He saw the shadowy figure stand there for a moment before giving him a slow nod.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered before closing the door.

  
  


**Conference Room** **  
** **Buddy Boyle Ministries HQ**

 

“I’ll get the truth out of you, one way or the other.”

 

Bartholomew stared down at the bound man in the chair. The angel was a couple of inches taller than his prisoner, with a trim athletic build and a chiseled jaw. His hazel eyes burned with contempt.

 

Stannis snorted, facial scar burning deep crimson. “Dzhevash’ jortch-ma’k!” He spat the Batarian curse at his tormentor, and managed a smirk when he saw a spatter of blood land in the angel’s hair. “Shepard,” he grunted, “Stannis Michael. Lieutenant Commander. Service number 5923-AC-2826.”

 

“Service number 5923-AC-2826,” Bartholomew sneered mockingly. “You piece of filth.” He started to rain blows on Shepard. “You’re not even fit,” he growled as he continued to beat the bound Nephilim, “to bear the name of the greatest of my kind.” 

 

Shepard repeated the name-rank-service number litany again through gritted teeth. He tensed and absorbed the strikes, which further enraged the angel. 

 

“I will have answers,  _ abomination _ ,” Bartholomew snarled. 

 

Shepard snorted again and activated his barrier.  The barrier’s static energy delivered a short sharp shock to Bartholomew, and the angel’s eyes blazed with hatred. “Answer me,” he leaned in to hiss at Shepard, “or I will find your mother, if she still lives. And when I do, I will tear your sire’s name from her feeble wretched mind before I incinerate her like the stinking trash that she--.”

 

Shepard felt something snap deep inside himself, and fire coursed through his veins. He roared with anger as his vision went white and his barrier exploded outward, destroying the furniture and his clothes, and blasting Bartholomew back through the heavy wooden door and deep into the far wall. Shepard stood unbound in a circle of debris, his body aglow with blue-white light. His eyes blazed with blue-green flames. He stalked out of the conference room, wounds healing with each step, and stopped at the hole in the wall. With a grunt, Shepard reached in to grab the terrified seraph by the throat and yank him out to face him.

 

“You will stay away from my mother,” Stannis growled. He shook Bartholomew and drew him in close. “Or I swear to all that’s holy, I will throw you into the heart of the hottest star I can find and I will watch you burn for the rest of time.” He turned to glare at the angels who had come to aid their superior when the flames went out at a sudden rush of dark energy that claimed his vision. Shepard dropped to the floor, unconscious but still gripping Bartholomew.

 

The angel wrestled himself from Shepard’s grasp. He quickly staggered to his feet and motioned to the unconscious half-naked nephilim. “Put him with the human,” he coughed. Several angels rushed forward to pick up Shepard. “Leave them,” Bartholomew rasped. “Just...leave them.” The angel took several deep breaths and straightened his tie. He winced when the starched cloth of his shirt rubbed against Shepard’s burned-in handprint on his throat. “I’ll deal with them later,” he said with one last cough as he turned to walk toward a room lined with banks of monitors.

  
  


**Just outside Norfolk, NE**

 

Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and read a message:

 

_ Hi. _

 

Sam blinked.  _ Who’s this? _ He texted back.

 

The phone rang seconds after he hit SEND. He answered it. “Hello?”

 

“How’s it going?” an electronic voice asked.

 

Sam almost dropped the phone in surprise. “Legion?” Dean quirked an eyebrow at the name and shot an inquisitive glance at his brother.

 

“Nah,” the voice responded with a digitized chuckle. “I’m Geth, but I’m not Legion. Call me Fermat.” Sam looked into the back seat and saw Israfel’s OmniTool blinking softly on her wrist. “Let her nap,” Fermat continued. “And make sure Dean keeps his eyes on the road.”

 

“Do I want to know how you’re calling me?” Sam asked. The answer he got was an electronic snort.

 

“This world’s communications network is a chaotic mess that a Quarian newborn could hack with one hand tied behind their back,” Fermat quipped. “Hacking a few switches to make a telephone call through an OmniTool was nothing.”

 

“Wow, okay,” Sam replied incredulously. “So...what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Just wanted to say hi,” the Geth responded. “Izzy uploaded me to her OmniTool before the Crucible activated--I volunteered, for the record--so she’s stuck with me for a while. You know Shepard?”

 

Sam sighed a bit. “He’s a good friend.”

 

“Legion thought so too. I’d be doing my progenitor’s memory a disservice if I didn’t help find the man that gave my people their first fair shake.”

 

A mumble from the back seat made Sam glance back to see a Israfel giving him a sleepy half-smile. She sat up and looked down at her OmniTool. “That Fermat?” When Sam nodded, she tapped her OmniTool and the call disconnected. A small drone materialized and floated over the seat to coalescing on the dashboard in the form of a six-inch tall holographic Geth platform. “Better?” Israfel asked.

 

Fermat nodded. “Yes, but I still can’t wait to get my own platform again.” The angel shrugged, and Fermat started to pace along the dashboard. “But let’s stay on-task. We’re looking for somebody named Bartholomew?”

 

Israfel grunted in assent.

 

“Check. I’m running searches for him or anything connected with him. Traffic cameras, security feeds, even conspiracy-theory websites. Humans set new records for crazy, by the way. Nothing so far, but he’s bound to come up at some point.” The Geth quirked an eyeflap. “I also did some reading up on what hunters do...will we get to see a leviathan while we’re here?”

 

Dean snorted. “God I hope not. I’ve had enough of the bigmouths to last a hundred lifetimes.”

 

Israfel sat up a bit and yawned. “Az hasn’t gotten back to me yet, so I’m guessing she either hasn’t found anything or just hasn’t stopped for gas.” She scratched her forehead for a moment. “Remind me to thank Rebecca again for letting Az borrow her car.”

 

Fermat nodded. “Thank Rebecca again for letting Az borrow her car.” He shrugged and looked around. “What?” The hologram shrank back into a tiny drone and drifted back into Israfel’s OmniTool. “Jeez, tough crowd,” the Geth quipped before falling silent.

 

Israfel rolled her eyes. “Everybody’s a comedian.” She looked over to a still-slumbering Castiel, and reached over to brush a lock of hair out of his face. “My little brother been making use of that eezo I left for him?”

 

“Yeah.” Dean replied. He turned into a Gas ‘n’ Sip and came to a stop at one of the pumps. Something brushed the right side of his face, and the hunter turned his head to see Israfel offering him a sheaf of bills. “What’s this for?” he asked.

 

“Gas money,” Israfel replied. She shook her hand a couple times. “Go on, take it. There’s some extra, to help with my brother’s grocery bills.” She winked. “The eezo will help stem the rate at which Castiel’s biotics are fading until we can find his grace, bu--”

 

“Fading?” Dean shifted and looked into the back seat at Israfel, “‘Splain, Izzy.”

 

Israfel looked to Castiel, then back to the brothers. “Eezo isn’t native to this world--kind of like grace isn’t native to the other side. The stuff I brought through with us is pretty much all that you’ll have here. So, what Cas has in his system will slowly bleed out and his biotics will fade. It could take weeks, it could take years, but he’ll cease to be biotic eventually; the two kilos of eezo that I left with you will help to slow that rate of decay, as long as my little brother is careful with it.”

 

“And if we find his grace?” Sam asked. “What then?”

 

“It’ll gradually take the place of the eezo, and he’ll be back to his old self. But until then, he’ll have both.” She shrugged a bit. “Mind you, this is all theorycraft based on the experience of our people on the other side of the Door who embraced biotics; they’re in balance, or at least they were while the Door was unsealed. Now, well. They’re relying more on their biotics and the rest of us have been using tech to compensate for our grace not being able to regenerate. Case in point.” Israfel held up her wrist and pointed at her OmniTool. “I’ll probably have to replace this when I get back, because I keep forgetting that I can actually use my grace on the regular for the first time since Man set foot on the moon.” The angel rubbed her hand over her face a bit and shrugged again. “Once we get everything sorted, I’ll have to get you a copy of the paper a brother of mine wrote about the relationship between grace and biotics. It’s fascinating reading.”

 

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Metatron’s only been in charge for a year--how have you not been able to use your grace since 1969?”

 

Israfel chuckled. “Sorry, I should have specified. I meant since Man set foot on the moon on the other side of the Door. The flow of time isn’t the same in other worlds as it is here--something that the two of you may have noticed when you had your respective stays in Hell and Purgatory.” She sat back and yawned a bit. “It’s a long story, and I promise I’ll tell you. But I want Stannis there for it too.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes a bit before asking, “So if that Door is sealed tight and nothing can get through, how’d we get there, and then back here?”

 

“In a nutshell? Energy and lots of it. Azrael forced open a crack in the wall to get you to me, which was actually the easy part--it’s how she was able to have her vessel here to help her act as a reference point for the return trip, and then have all of her come through with you. Coming back needed a fuckton more juice, since we were breaking in rather than breaking out. Enter Project Crucible, the Reaper-killer.” Israfel looked out the window for a moment. “Some of our people were engineers working on the thing--they tuned it so that it would not only take out the Reapers, but also give us the power we needed to force open a sort of wormhole, so the six of us could come through during the very short time that it existed.”

 

“Six?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

 

Israfel started counting on her fingers. “Stannis, Kaidan, Me, you, Sam, Cas. Six. Six and a half, if you count the piece of Azrael that was in the greybox. Fermat has no platform-- _ yet _ \--so he counted on the cargo side of things rather than the passenger side.” She sighed. “The wormhole didn’t stay open for super-long on that side, but thanks to the time dilation effect I had just enough time to--” She started counting off on her fingers again. “--make Addy’s acquaintance and get her permission to wear her body, make sure that my boy and his sweetheart were safely in the panic room and that they had stuff they needed, detail your Baby, and make sure to park her where you’d find her--with all your stuff, of course.”

 

“Gotcha. And speaking of Baby, we did come here to gas her up.” Dean opened the driver’s side door and stepped out of the car, then leaned down to stick his head back in for a moment. “Heading inside to get some snacks. I’d offer to get you something, but you people don’t eat.”

 

“Oh, here,” Israfel got a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to Dean. “A couple of the super-size bags of jerky would be great--one sweet-hot, one peppered. And a one-liter diet cherry cola. Addy’s jonesing--and for the record, I do try to eat at least twice daily.” She looked over to Castiel and got out another twenty. “Better make it three bags. Cas will need something salty and protein-like to snack on when he wakes up, to make sure his electrolytes stay balanced. Don’t worry about the change.”

 

Dean nodded. “Got it.” He looked to Sam and jerked his head toward the store. Sam got out of the car, and the pair walked inside leaving the two angels in the back seat.

 

Israfel sighed and stared out the window at a pickup pulling into the lot for a couple of minutes, then looked over to Castiel. “I know you’re awake,” she jibed. “You always were bad at playing possum.”

 

Castiel opened one eye, then the other. “Would you have been so forthcoming with all of that if I’d advertised that I wasn’t asleep?”

 

“Give me some credit, will you please?” Israfel rubbed her hand over her face and sighed again, deeper this time. “This mission is about getting answers just as much as it is about saving the multiverse, and even if it wasn’t? Well, lying serves exactly no one. Did you ever go see Liara about removing Azrael’s block, by the way?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “No. I, uh, forgot.”

 

“That’s understandable,” Israfel replied with a soft chuckle. “There  _ was _ a war on, after all. Here.” She reached out toward Castiel and gently touched his forehead with her right index finger. “Give it a few hours, those memories will be unvaulted.”

 

“Wait.” Castiel took his sister’s hand before she could pull it away, and gave it a squeeze. “Israfel, I owe you an apology. What I said at Bobby’s...”

 

Israfel nodded softly. “I forgive you, Cas--but I was serious about Hannah. Please don’t disrespect her by treating her like she was just a throwaway…”

 

“You loved her.” Castiel’s voice was quiet. He still held his sister’s hand, feeling it tremble in his. He saw Israfel nod slightly, in the darkened car, and immediately moved to give his sister a hug.

 

“I’ve always loved her,” she whispered softly. “Hannah and Steven were my friends... _ are _ my friends. They could have said no when I said I wanted to have a kid with them--but they didn’t. They...they wanted Stannis just as much as I did.” Israfel sighed and leaned into her brother. “I won’t speak for them--but I just wanted to be able to say that I gave the universe something good.”

 

“You did,” Castiel replied. He gave Israfel a squeeze and sat back. “I just hope we find him soon.”

 

A slight vibration against Israfel’s right hand made her look to her OmniTool.

 

_ Security camera in Wyoming gave us something interesting. _ The message scrolled in Khelish script.  _ Theo and some others met with a women’s church choir at a bar--they chatted and shook hands, Theo and his friends left, but the ladies are still there. Perhaps we can get Team Free Will to di-- _ The text abruptly ceased, and Fermat’s voice came on the comms unit in Israfel’s left ear. “Check that,” the Geth said quickly. “I hacked some traffic camera feeds to see if I could get an idea where Theo was headed, and there’s a convoy of SUVs headed toward that bar carrying a bunch of people in three-piece suits. Somehow, I don’t think they just want drinks.”

 

“Ah shit.” Israfel unlocked the door behind her and opened it.

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

“Gotta go,” she said. Israfel got out of the car, then turned and leaned down to look back at her brother. “Dean’s bringing a mess of jerky for you. Do yourself a solid and eat some.” She stood and started to close the door, then leaned back down to add, “But don’t drink my diet cherry cola.” She stood again, closed the door, and hustled across the parking lot to a motorcycle parked at the side of the Gas ‘n’ Sip.

 

Castiel watched Israfel look around for a moment before activating her OmniTool to hotwire the electronic starter on the bike. She jumped on the bike and hit the kickstart lever, and the motorcycle came to life with a throaty roar.  

 

The clerk, a stocky bearded man with tattooed arms and graying hair, vaulted the counter at the sound of the bike starting and ran out just in time to see Israfel peeling out of the parking lot and into the night. He ran to the edge of the canopy over the gas pumps and dug a cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed, put the phone to his ear, then pulled it away and looked at the screen for a moment before throwing the device to the ground and letting out a stream of invective. At the same time, Castiel felt his cell phone vibrate and got it out as the Winchesters did the same inside the store with their phones. A single message showed on their screens:

 

_ Going to save some damsels in distress.  _ _   
_ _ F _

 

Cas sighed heavily and dropped his phone to the seat next to him. “Dammit.”


	3. Intension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izzy and Fermat close in on Bartholomew, almost get in a wreck and commit a random act of kindness. Azrael talks to Malachi and fills in a hole. Stannis has broken a lock.

**Road King Motel  
** **Rifle, CO**

 

Malachi sat up in bed and looked around. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked down at himself. He was in bed, wearing nothing but briefs. “What the…?”   
  


“Cover your eyes,” a calm voice replied from the dark. “I’m going to turn the lights on.” Malachi shut his eyes tightly, and heard a soft click. “OK,” the voice said. “Lights are on.” The angel opened his eyes to see Azrael sitting in a chair in one corner of the room, smiling at him. “Morning.”

  
“You?”  
  


Azrael nodded. “Yeah. You were pretty unresponsive, and Theo got scared--so he called me.” She indicated the foot of the bed. “Your clothes are right there by the way. I took the liberty of washing them at the local laundromat. How you feeling?”   
  


Malachi grunted and reached for his jeans. “I don’t know, I...” He paused for a moment and looked over at Azrael. “I remember now.”   
  


“Yeah. Deletion is painless. Quick. You never know it happened. The restoration process, though--two others here have gone through it, three counting you. They said it hurt like a sumbitch.”  
  
  
Malachi stood and finished putting on his jeans, then sat back down on the bed. “For one memory?”  
  


Azrael shook her head. “You didn’t just get one back, Malachi.” When her brother looked up at her, she continued. “Izzy gave you the full undelete. She told me what happened--apparently you were beating on her pretty good, and she didn’t see any other way to incapacitate you.”   
  


“Right.” Malachi grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on. “So you’re here for...what? To see if I’ll follow her?” When Azrael laughed, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that’s funny.”   
  


“Relax,” the archangel chuckled, “we’re not trying to build a power base. We’re just trying to get as many of our people to the table as possible so that we can all lift together.” She stood. “ _ As. Equals. _ That’s why Izzy gave you that datapad,” she said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the device on the table. “Theo and everyone else in your org has read it already. But since you’re their boss, they’re waiting for you to discuss it with them.” She stood. “If nothing else, at least read it.”   
  


Malachi furrowed his brow. “I have a blank spot.” He looked up at his sister. “There’s...it feels like I have a hole in my head.”   
  


“What? Oh wait, I forgot about that.” The mark glowed on Azrael’s forehead, and she bent down and gently touched Malachi’s right temple. “You should be able to access that now.”

 

_ “Azrael?” Malachi approached the two angels standing next to a glowing door.  “What’s going on here?” _

__ Azrael kept her attention focused on the frightened angel next to her, a low-rank cherub. “Go on Tyl,” she said to him, her voice gentle and soothing. “They’ll meet you on the other side. I’ll cover you.” The archangel reached an arm back and made a motion that held her brother in place. “You’ll be safe,” she reassured the angel by the door. “Michael will think you’re dead once I present your blade to him, and you’ll be free to reinvent yourself.”  
  


__ Her terrified brother pointed to Malachi. “What about him?”  
  


__ Azrael leaned in and affectionately touched her forehead to Tyl’s. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “Nobody will come after you. I’ll see you soon.”  
  


__ The cherub nodded and darted through the door, which closed behind him and winked out of sight. His blade clattered to the floor, and Azrael bent down to pick it up. She pocketed it, and sighed deeply. “As for you, brother…” the assassin approached Malachi and stopped when she saw fear in his eyes. “You won’t die,” she reassured him, “But this incident won’t be accessible to you or anyone else for a while.” She reached out and tapped Malachi on the forehead, and everything went black.  
  
  


“What the…?” Malachi blinked a couple of times and stared at his sister with a look of confusion on his face.   
  


Azrael nodded. “I didn’t erase that memory,” she explained. “I just locked it away where Naomi wouldn’t be able to get to it.” She let out a short sigh. “And having said that; My body count is greatly over-exaggerated. Michael told everyone I killed Tyl and a lot of others when really all I did was help them escape to a place that he and Raphael couldn’t reach.”   
  


“Where is he now?”   
  


Azrael scratched her forehead for a moment. “Last I heard he’s a librarian,” she replied. “He’d given intelligence work a shot, but he found that he likes collecting books and vids more than he likes spycraft, and he’s doing what he loves rather than what somebody told him to do.” She turned and picked up the datapad from the table along with her phone. “I do recommend reading the whole datapad, by the way; it explains everything--even shit that I didn’t know.” She offered the electronic tome to her brother. “We’ve stagnated here, Malachi. We can’t live with the way things have been going if we want to progress as a people.”   
  


Malachi took the datapad and held it in his hands. He looked down at it. “Why?” he asked, looking back to his sister. “I mean..this device.” He pointed to the pad. “Why read it?”.   
  


“Because we’ve been lied to enough,” the angel of Death explained. She smiled and leaned down to touch her forehead to Malachi’s. “It’s time for the truth to have its turn. Theo and the others are outside. I’ll let them know you’re awake.” She turned and walked toward the door.   
  


“Azrael.” Malachi kept his gaze on the datapad, scrolling through the information contained on it. “I…”   
  


Azrael stopped, hand on the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder to Malachi. “Hmm?”   
  


He looked up from the datapad to his sister. “Thanks.”   
  


“Glad to help.” Azrael smiled and opened the door. “I’ll see you soon.” She walked through the door and let it close behind her with a soft click, leaving her brother alone with the electronic testament.

 

_ My name is Israfel, _ Malachi read when he went back to the start.  _ What you are about to read is a complete and true account of everything that has happened to a group of fourteen angels who left after our Father departed Heaven, and a reckoning of every angel that followed us from the world of our Creation to a new world. Some have perished. Many yet live. They are all accounted for here. _

_ I provide this testament of our Consensus, its formation and its works, that our people might find hope from it. _

_ I know that you will have questions when this is over. I will answer them all truthfully. Our people have been lied to enough; it’s time for us to be able to make decisions as one people and to NOT have to make those decisions in a vacuum. _

  
  


**Fermat and Israfel  
  
**

“Izzy, now that we’re done with that rescue op we really should tell them.” The Geth’s voice was soft in Israfel’s ear. “The Winchesters are their friends, they--”   
  


“I know,” Israfel replied. “But this is--” Her comment was interrupted by a loud and squishy  _ thwock _ on the faceplate of her helmet. “Oh fuck, that’s gross.” She pulled the motorcycle over to the side of the road and tapped her OmniTool. A tiny cleaning drone materialized and cleaned away the remnants of a large insect that met its rather explosive end on the helmet. It winked twice and vanished, giving a heads-up readout with a detailed DNA analysis of the dead bug.    
  


“I didn’t know this was grasshopper season here,” Fermat quipped. “Anyway,” he continued while Israfel dialed up a kinetic barrier to ward off any further unintended biological impacts, “the Winchesters deserve to know. Hell, Castiel of  _ all _ people deserves to know given how Major Alenko damn near died because of him. You know, balancing the books and all?”   
  


Israfel sighed and pulled back out onto the highway. “Fermat, I know. It’s my fault that my kid and his sweetheart are in this mess, though. I should be the one to put it to rights.” She pulled out to pass a beat-up red hatchback that was struggling mightily against the slight uphill grade. “We can tell them afterwards.” Israfel put out her right arm to indicate she was pulling back to the right, slyly scanning the hatchback at the same time.   
  


Fermat let out an electronic groan. “Keelah! You are absolutely impossible.”   
  


“I’m also unkillable.” They passed a sign announcing their crossing into Oklahoma. “Cas and the Winchester brothers, however, are not.” Another sigh into the helmet’s mic. “They’re at greater risk than Stannis, Kaidan, or either of us.”

 

_ Israfel. _

 

The archangel swerved and fought to retain control of the motorcycle when she heard the voice of Stannis Shepard echo in her head. “Oh shit…” she grunted.

“Keelah!” Fermat popped a pair of hard-light training wheels up on either side of the bike to keep it upright. “Izzy! What happened? Are you okay?”

Israfel quickly pulled onto the shoulder and stopped the bike, then slumped forward with her head on her arms, elbows braced on the handlebars of the motorcycle. The training wheels vanished. “I’m...fuck me. I’ll be okay, Fermat. Just got a big shock, that’s all.”

The archangel’s Geth companion quickly accessed a nearby cell tower and sent a text message:   
  


_ 545 Buddy Boyle Drive _ _   
_ _ Lawton, OK _ _   
_ _   
_ __ ASSEMBLE.  
  


“Izzy,” he asked softly, “you going to be okay?”

Israfel took a couple of deep breaths, shut off the mic for a couple of seconds, and re-engaged it. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice quiet. “I just...my boy called to me. I wasn’t expecting it.” She put on the blinker and waited for a couple of cars to pass. 

“If he called to you, does that mean he…” Fermat trailed off at a heavy sigh from his angelic friend. “Let’s take a moment,” Fermat cautioned. “We don’t want to get this bike in a wreck if we’re going to get it back to its owner.”

The red hatchback they had passed earlier crested the hill behind them and started to accelerate down the hill. As it passed them at the side of the road, Israfel spawned a drone that attached itself to the car and started to migrate along the length of the passenger side, flashing occasionally. The hatchback slowed and pulled off to the side of the road as the drone floated into the engine compartment. The driver got out of the car and walked around to open the hood just as the drone winked out of existence and returned one message:  _ repairs complete _ .   
  


“Did you just…”   
  


“Yeah,” Israfel replied. “Mostly to help distract me. Besides,” she added, “I wouldn’t be much of an angel if I didn’t help at least one mortal.” She looked up at the highway sign a few feet ahead of them. “It’s a hundred and six miles to Lawton,” she quipped. “We’ve got a full tank of gas, half a liter of diet cherry cola, it’s getting dark, and I’m wearing a copy of my kid’s N7 helmet.”   
  


Fermat quipped, “Hit it.”   
  


Israfel revved the motorcycle’s engine, pulled back onto the highway, and roared off into the dusk.   
  


**  
Stannis  
  
**

_ “Wait, hold on. You’re not shitting me?” Shepard stared at the tiny woman in dress blues. Tears ran down her face, and she hugged herself to keep from grabbing him in another bearhug. _

_ “No, son. I really am your father,” she said, voice wavering slightly. “My name is Israfel. This body is a vessel for…” the woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “Sorry.” She took another deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh as she wiped away her tears. “My emotions are kind of a big mess right now. You’ve been dead for over two months now. Your soul, when it didn’t show up right away...I feared the worst.” _

_ Shepard blinked and shook his head a couple of times in disbelief. “You’re an archangel…?” _

__ Israfel nodded and smiled softly. “I am.” She started to glow, and her appearance changed to that of a muscular bronze-skinned being a full two feet taller than Shepard, with a face made of lightning and a golden tattoo of some kind on her forehead. Her vessel’s body became an image superimposed over the archangel. “This is my true form,” she explained in a voice like summer rain and distant thunder. “I’m really an archangel, you’re really my kid, I have loved you since before you were born, and I’ve waited your whole life to finally be able to say hello to you.” She smiled and gently took her son’s hand. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you around. We have a lot to talk about.”  
  
  
Shepard’s eyes snapped open. “Israfel,” he said softly. He heard a groan from the corner. He sat up, and slowly crawled in the direction of the sound. He reached out and felt a hand, then an arm. He gripped the hand tightly. “Kaidan?”   


“Yeah.” Kaidan croaked the word out.   


“Here. Lie still.” Shepard knelt over Kaidan, and his hands started to glow. He traced the outlines of Kaidan’s body, and watched his bruises and cuts fade under his touch. When he was done, Shepard leaned in to give Kaidan a kiss and whispered “I remember now. I remember everything.”  
  


_ I’m coming, son. _ The words drifted through Shepard’s consciousness, a peal of thunder in an approaching storm.  _ I’ll see you soon. _


End file.
